The woman was completely devastated. Her boyfriend of three years was now dead, a casualty of the war. She had found this out on a particularly dreary day, when a visitor rang her doorbell. "Ms. Smith? May I come in?" the well dressed middle aged man said in a polite, but serious tone. "Why, sure..." Ms. Smith responded, in a polite but nervous tone. The man strolled past the foyer into the living room to take a seat. Ms. Smith followed him, the anticipation was eating away at her. "You were the only person we could find..." the man said, almost beginning to break down. "It was an Improvised Explosive Device...and...and, well, mam, he's no longer with us." At this moment, Ms. Smith seemingly melted to the ground. She could no longer even so much as sit down under her own power. She hit the carpeted floor just as her tears reached the same fate as her entire body. This was the worst moment of her life, and she couldn't imagine anything any worse. He was all she had and, in turn, she was all he had.
Tell me if you think if this is "showing" the situation clearly.
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